YES

Aaaaaaaaand I was able to pay my note back in less than thirty hours, as my lowly Leafs beat the Canucks tonight 5-2. The most unlikely outcome of the season and I bet it all.

Good move, me!

Ice/cubed.

He's all pewter-tipped white roses and incredulity today. All bemused smiles and french cuffs shot until I'm bleeding on the floor of the car for their charm, his thumb just under his chin, index finger over his lips as if he wants to hide that smile as he drives.

I'm disappointed that you were worried I would leave you for your lies of omission. About money? I knew damn well you kept all of it. How else did you buy that white-marble mausoleum except with more money, Cale?

Somehow I imagine few women would write someone off because they had more money instead of less. 

Oh, now, wait a minute-

Bridget, I'm merely toying with you now. I know you're not like that. Sometimes I wish you were, seeing as how you live when left to his devices.

I can be like that. It depends.

Yes, I saw that note. You need to pick a better team. 

I'll pay you back. 

Just so happens, I'm free this evening. 

I turn up the radio and sit back, leaning back against the headrest, closing my eyes and not answering him. We always get into massive amounts of trouble when Ben goes away. Why would tonight be any different? It seems as if Lochlan and Ben somehow temper each other perfectly and when one of them is missing it all goes to shit. Three is either my lucky number or my unlucky one, I never know which.

Bells and whistles and IEDs.

At six this morning Caleb barged into our bedroom and threw a folder on the bed. Lochlan sat up and swore at him and I squeezed my eyes shut and hid under the pillow. If I can't see the boogeyman, he can't see me, right?

There's the big secret you've been worried about. Remember when I told you all of my holdings were tied up in these houses and the rest was transferred to you? That wasn't quite true. Everything is mirrored. I just wasn't sure what steps you would take and didn't want them to wind up in control of everything. 

Then he left, closing the door on the way out.

Lochlan rifled through the paperwork and then looked at me. Too easy. That's not it. He passed me the folder and I looked through it too.

Wow. There's a lot here. 

We all knew he didn't sign everything over to you. He wouldn't do that. You don't have the experience and he doesn't trust the rest of us. 

Exactly. But still. Wow. It's more than I thought. 

But the more I think about it the more I realize he signed everything (or so I thought) over to me as a matter of honor and this means he isn't true to his word. That would be a huge risk, in that I might have walked away from him, hence his efforts to nail down his place in my life before I found out.

Oh.

So maybe this is it? I don't know. But it's good nonetheless because the Leafs sit in last place and I wager a lot on standings and scores and I have a significant payout to make this morning (they have 47 points. FORTY SEVEN) and so I'll be asking for some sugar anyway, if you get my drift.

Also I keep forgetting to get my key back from Caleb. I need to look after that today. Lochlan's already threatening to set trip wires and landmines.

Just to be on the safe side, he says.

Is there one? I ask him and he just stares at me.

I have a headache. It's six two with blue eyes.

We have a bunch of things to sort out so Caleb wants to go for a walk on the beach. It's truth serum. It's private. It's cold and rainy and not at all as comforting as the boathouse this morning with the fire blazing, the coffee pot just beginning to signal that it's ready and the lights on low in the living room.

I didn't think I'd be able to pull you away from the wolves this week. 

They tried their best. Ben is away this week (left yesterday :( :( :( BLAH) so everyone else has practically been sitting on me. PJ was reluctant but I reminded him I'm an adult and he's not on the hook for anything here. I don't say anything toward Caleb's observation. I just shrug.

Lochlan doesn't have any information that you don't have, in his defense. 

Since when do you defend Lochlan?

Since it favors the truth. 

Since when do you favor the truth?

If it doesn't hurt, I'm all for it. 

Then tell me whatever you haven't. 

Eventually. 

Then fuck off. 

Wow. Nice. I need to remind you that your compliance is part of the deal. 

Not if you're going to dangle secrets just out of reach. 

I never planned to do that but your dogs are digging around and they dug too deeply. 

So Batman knows. 

I haven't been asked for formal confirmation so I doubt he knows anything for certain and he hasn't shared his theories with me so your guess is as good as mine. I'm not inclined to admit there's any real secret to be shared here, if you want brutal honesty. I just want to save my place, as it were.

Except that I'm actually guessing and you have all the answers. 

Look. I just want to absolve Lochlan. 

It seems to me it would be better for you if we're at odds with each other. 

You need him. 

I do. 

I'm trying to help you here, Bridget. Trying to, as they say, do right by you. 

Well then try harder. 

Comfort and security outside of financial means isn't my forte, Neamhchiontach. 

I noticed.

Juice break.

Busy day.

This morning Sam made the cross in ashes on my forehead and repeated a verse from Genesis that ended in 'And to dust you shall return' and I burst into tears and so did he briefly before continuing on to someone else. I went to his service this morning because he's in charge even though he's a little bit harried but the alternative was Batman and he would have marked his name on my forehead under 'Property of' and we don't want to go there today. He offered me Jasper's job last evening but I was a little pancake-drunk, blood sugar through the roof so I smartly ignored him and he said big mistake to those actions but left anyway. He fancies himself a savior of sorts too and I don't have the heart to tell him he's not. Better still to let Sam mark him too and maybe he can spend the next month and a bit thinking about the things he's done wrong like the rest of us.

PJ collected me after his dentist appointment and we came home to start tackling the big list of spring cleaning, something we wouldn't even consider until April-ish in any other province but the flowers are blooming here and Ruth wore shorts out on Sunday and so tick-tock, let's get this show on the road. I would prefer to be outside in the pouring rain cleaning up the gardens but PJ said once the inside is finished we'll head outside and begin the long slog of trying to keep up with the landscaping until Halloween.

We need more people. People with stamina. PJ snorts when I say that but this house is too big for us to clean and the yard is too huge to look after on our own but since these are good problems we persist. When things get really tough the others step in but those who work outside the home get to do less in keeping. We're really old-fashioned. Housewives and breadwinners. Please stop laughing, I realize there's precisely nothing old-fashioned about living in an intentional chosen family complete with open relationships but you would be surprised at some of the standards we adhere to.

Like ashes on my forehead. Even Caleb did a double-take, asking me if the priest shouldn't have done an exorcism instead of a blessing and I stuck my tongue out at him and pointed out Sam has ashes now. He asked if they were Jake's before he could catch himself and I'm pretty much done talking to him for the week or maybe if I'm really lucky, the rest of my life and Duncan rolled his eyes and told Caleb to eat shit which was a bit lowbrow even for him and so it's probably safer to be cleaning and ignoring the lot of them, I think. Besides, we have a huge list for the next couple days. I'd better get back to it.

High Shrovetide.

I swear I just made seven hundred and twelve pancakes and five pans of sausages so we could see Shrove Tuesday out in style. Done. Then Ben ate half a loaf of banana bread because he was still hungry. I've decided for lent this year I'm giving up accepting lies as the truth. Let's see how far this gets me.

In the meantime, did you know that in 2012 High Holy Days put out an album under an independent label?? I didn't but I found five of the songs from it tonight and SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

And yes, Lochlan knows whatever Caleb isn't telling me. Oh, he hasn't admitted it yet but he knows.

Drunk for thirty two years.

Come on, Lochlan! I pulled on his arm but he shook his head and laughed.

I can't feel my arms, Sweetheart. He told me. He can't focus either. Too much beer. I wish he'd drink pop like me but only the clear pop because then nobody burps too much or feels too full.

Come! On! I pull both arms and lose my footing but still he doesn't move. We're going to miss the fireworks! 

We'll catch them next year. I'm just happy this run is over. It's time to hit the road. 

What will punching the road do? Don't we have to drive on it? On the bus?

Yeah. We do. Hey, where are you going?

I'll watch the fireworks by myself. 

Come back here, bridgie. 

Can't make me.

I'm in charge. You have to listen to me. Those are the rules.

Can't be in charge when you're...you're beered up. 

I think the word you're looking for is drunk.

Drunk is the postscript of drank. I drank. He drunk. You drink.

Yes, I did and I'm sorry. Your English is fucked. 

Too many new forwords.

That's foreign words. 

I made a port hawkesbury! I put the two words together and-

It's called a portmanteau.

Oh. I get it. 

You should have a beer. It would make you sleep like a baby.

I'm not a baby!

Yes, you are. 

I give up and slide down the edge of the bed to sit on the floor. Loch was drunk that night and I never got my fireworks and he's drunk tonight and I won't get my answers.

Come on. I shake him. Help me out here. 

It serves no purpose other than to wreck things just a little more, Peanut. Things are good. You have what you need. Don't go looking for trouble. It will find you soon enough anyhow.

Functional little maniac.

I powered through and finished the taxes today and then loaded everything up and triumphantly hit file and what do you know? Netfiling is only available beginning February 15.

Huh.

I had a whole extra week to finish but look at me, I'm done. Everyone is done. Even Duncan's taxes got did because he is a procrastinator and a denier and never seemed to get anything done on time.

But yet here we are. Twenty returns, including Ruth for the first time this year and I'm finished and now I get to go out for dinner instead of cooking because I'm wound up like a top. Caleb's taxes are so complicated. Mine are so simple. Everyone in between is marginally tough but doable. My rules are simple. No receipt? No deduction. No funny business, payment expected within 10 business days of filing. Ha.

So happy that's over. Did I mention I HATE taxes?

So tonight it was an early dinner out with everyone. Short notice. Twenty minutes for a reservation for some fourteen people and maybe a few stragglers, we shall see. Got jumbled up in the planning on the way home and I ended up riding with Caleb in the R8 while Lochlan who drank more than anticipated was the charge of Christian, who didn't drink at all. We met up in the driveway and as I said goodnight, Caleb pressed a heart-shaped post-it note into my hand and a dry kiss on my forehead. Sleep well, Neamhchiontach. A twirl on his hand and I was off to dance my way to dreamland.

When I came up to change a dress for pajamas I finally looked at the note.

Roses are red
My eyes are blue
Why not ask Loch
What I'm hiding from you? 

Pretty sure I'm the only one who doesn't know, or maybe that's doesn't want to know what Caleb has up his sleeve now but I'm happy to stay in the dark, thanks so maybe everyone can just keep it to themselves. I'm trying not to kill myself with curiosity here. One slip and I might not have much choice.

Sundays are for early church ('scuse me while I sleep through it with my eyes open).

When I was eight I started down the road of my worst habit that persists to this day. Holding hands. It left off when I was old enough to walk without supervision from my parents and then it returned when I moved to that small town and starting hanging out with Lochlan, Caleb, Cole, Christian and the rest and I couldn't keep up with them. Someone would always take my hand to help me along over roots, rocks and slippery snow. If my feet tangled I would be lifted right off the ground and re-centered. If my mind wandered, that hand would ground me. I still do it, almost unconsciously (both trip on things and hold their hands) and it still causes a watershed of confusion and assumption. Some things don't change, the more they stay the same.

This morning in church was no exception. Lochlan had to work. He doesn't mind if it's a choice between being paid and being flayed, as he says and so I sat between John and Caleb. John is the habitual safekeeper and so I had his hand in a deathgrip, mostly because my mind was wandering so far I lost sight of it no less than three times and I didn't want Sam to notice and single me out. So with John's hand held tightly in mine I bowed my head and closed my eyes and off I went while Sam spoke of what it means to belong, and how we search for our tribes and then we search beyond them through our faith.

In my daydream I ran to catch up and went flying to the ground when I missed the root that loops up over the path. My hands both went out and then I caught myself, slightly startled, but not noticeable enough for anyone to react. I recentered myself and went right back in, preferring stories of the past over Sam's admonishment. Sam and Lochlan do a daily war in my head. Sam to keep my faith and Lochlan to question it. Because when has it ever helped us? Naw. We help each other, Peanut. Lochlan has little use for God and I sometimes believe in Lochlan instead of God completely. At least I can hold Lochlan's hand.

When the sermon was finished and John pulled my hand slightly to stand for the hymn I realized when I imagine-fell that I had grabbed Caleb's hand too. He had the hymnbook in his left hand and he looked so pleased as he squeezed my fingers gently in his own. John leaned way over and shot him a look that would have flattened anyone else and Caleb merely winked in return as I tried to lean back to see their exchanges a little better. Finally John said hold this and thrust the book into my arms so I let go of both of them and took the worn hymnal and Caleb rolled his eyes but never broke his concentration, singing the words to Welcome Table along with all the rest.

Hallelujah.

Shhh.

Are you...negotiating..with me? 

Yes. 

I have no problem with it, so long as you hold up your end of the bargain. 

I hold the floor in my gaze but it squirms and twists and I'm forced to look him in the eye. He looks positively gleeful. Fine. 

How do you think August will feel when he finds out you got him a raise using your tried and true collateral? How do you think they all feel when you hand them the moon on the back of that twelve-year-old girl who screamed and then asked for more? 

August needs a raise if he's going to be taking this on alone. The money you save in not having to pay Joel anymore will more than compensate for it. That has nothing to do with anything else. 

What about Sam?

Sam isn't on your payroll. 

What would you do to get him there? Make him available to you around the clock without the church in the way? Just like Jacob, who went on the dole to spend more time with you. He was in my pocket and he hated himself for it. 

He took up teaching, it had nothing to do with you. 

That dreamworld must be incredible, Bridget. You never seem to want to leave it. 

Jacob didn't take anything from you except for me. 

Think again, Princess. 

Look you can fuck with my head all you want. I'll email you my requests from now on. 

Look, I hate to bring it up but this game doesn't just involve me. And if you think your precious boys don't come to me when you're not looking seeking favors of their own then you are still stuck in your cotton candy freakshow universe. 

Give me names or never see me again. 

Your threats don't work with me, remember? I'm the Devil. I'm here whether you want me to be or not. We're linked forever, and don't think you can change that, even as you deny me when I know damn well how badly you want this. You want things to stay happy? Want to keep your Sugar Daddy right where you need him then stop dancing around this and get on with it, Bridget. Hell, I'll give everyone a raise. But you've got to hold up your end and stop with the vague threats and plans to put it all out there. It's getting tired. I'm older now. I've left my mark on the world already so my reputation is not at stake like it once was and I have all the time in the world to play games with you now if that's what you want to continue to do.

What time do you want me here?

That's my good girl. But not tonight. I would like to make some plans for early next month, however. I have a birthday coming up and I'd like to celebrate it in style. Maybe elsewhere. 

My helpless look must have hit a nerve. I haven't decided, so don't panic just yet. Why don't you run along home now and inform August of his promotion and maybe later we'll begin planning something unforgettable. Something fun. Something with cake involved. Okay? He tucks his hand under my chin and lifts my face up to meet his eyes. Medium blue washes over me and I forget we are at war.

Okay.